Game Night
by SRV42
Summary: Hermione and Angelina are hosting a game night... and the Weasley twins will be there. Mainly Hermione Fred, some Angelina Oliver. High on Hormones, Low on Plot. Currently a OneShot.


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Just a one-shot, unless lots of people want a continuation.  
Disclaimer: All of HP belongs to JKR.

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"Hey, Hermione, I just got this new game, we should have a shindig," my friend Angelina told me over the phone.

"I'd love to," I answered, "but my friends Fred and George are going to be in town, so I really have to hang out with them."

"Fred and George _Weasley?_" Angelina asked. "Didn't you have the biggest crush on them back at Hogwarts? And aren't they Ron's brothers? And didn't you date Ron for like two years?"

"Yup, Fred and George and I are just friends now. Well, mostly," I said, glad that Angelina couldn't see my face as it turned red. The Weasley twins were widely acknowledged as the most flirtatious pair in the country; how could I help it if I had a soft spot for them? Especially when they turned on the charm with me… and those smiles…

"Well, _my_ boy, Oliver, is going to be around; this would be a GREAT double-dating game," she said.

"Ok, what is it?" I finally asked.

"Truth or Dare Jenga." Oh shit, I thought. "It's pretty mild, but I thought it might be fun, and if you get really bored, you can write things on the white blocks."

"I'm not sure that this is a good idea," I hesitated. The twins, thanks to the aforementioned charm, were adept at making me push the limits of what I was comfortable with.

"Cmon, it'll be fun. Friday at 9, come on over to my apartment."

That's how I found myself explaining to Fred and George that they'd have to meet me at Angelina's apartment when they arrived, that we had a shindig planned, and would they please behave themselves for one night so that my other friends didn't think they were psychos. Grimacing afterward, I realized that saying this was probably the one way to guarantee that they would NOT behave.

A week later, I trekked to Angelina's place, which was only a few blocks from mine. I was an hour early, but I had promised to help her set up and get snacks ready. Despite my insistence that Fred and George were only friends, I had taken an obscene amount of time to prepare for that night. I had worn my shortest jean shorts, a black sleeveless t-shirt with 'Durmstrang' printed on it (a gift from Viktor when we had been dating) and a grungy necklace with a tiny glass timeturner (not real, of course) on it. Angelina's boyfriend, the infamous Oliver Wood, hottest guy on the planet according to some, was working until 8 that night, but would join us as soon as he could. When I rang the doorbell, Angelina barely opened it, and then ran back inside, rushing to an egg timer that was ringing loudly. She reappeared after I had set down my messenger bag by the door.

"Cmon in, sorry, I was just making something… I wish I knew how to cook with magic, but my mom always insisted on baking the muggle way…" The smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies filled the room, and I could have cared less how she made them. Taking out her wand, Angelina put a cooling charm on them, and handed me one.

"Thanks, they're GREAT," I told her, wandering from the kitchen and out toward the living room.

"I'm so glad, I always worry that I'll forget one of the ingredients," she said, and I heard her fumbling around in the kitchen some more. I found her stereo and turned the CD player on.

A Weezer song, "Island in the Sun," came on, and I couldn't help dancing around to it, flailing my arms in the air as I jumped around in a circle, in a way that a Hermione of the past would have strongly disapproved. I was feeling a mixture of apprehension and anticipation of the night to come. It had been so long since I'd seen the twins; a year at least. The last time we'd met, I had been with their brother, Ron as well as Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. Harry had recently broken the news that he was engaged to a muggle girl, from his aunt and uncle's old neighborhood, strangely enough. Ron had already been engaged for a year to Lavender Brown, much to everyone's astonishment. I had dated Ron for a short time while we were going to Hogwarts, but it had creeped us both out. We had been friends for so long that a relationship just complicated things.

Angelina came out of the kitchen carrying a basket of chips in one hand and a six-pack of butterbeer in the other. I stopped dancing around to help her. Her long blonde hair framed a pale face, thin and pretty. She seemed alternately delicate and tough on the occasions I'd had to meet her; I'd watched as she'd kicked ass on the Quidditch field, but had been present on more than one occasion when guys had stomped on her heart. She was a walking paradox. But weren't we all?

It was only a few minutes later that we heard a bang, and then a knock at the door.

"They're here," I breathed, needlessly messing with my hair. Angelina looked at me sideways, and laughed.

"Just friends, huh?" she teased. I stuck out my tongue at her. Very mature for a 26 year old, I know.

The twins were exactly the same as they had always been. Unkempt, flaming red hair framed faces with scattered freckles, even now that they were older. They were both well built, due to the many years playing Quidditch, and wore matching grins at seeing the girls.

"Alright, the party can begin, we're here," said a twin I identified as George. I grinned.

"Fred, George… I've missed you," I said, and they both gathered me in a hug. We spent the time until 8 sitting at the table in the kitchen, munching on snacks, drinking butterbeer and catching up. At 8:30, Oliver finally made it, and Angelina greeted him with a quick kiss. He was as good looking as ever; his dirty-blonde hair was cropped short, and he wore a Quidditch t-shirt. He proclaimed that he was starving, but the twins had finished off most of the snacks that Angelina had prepared, so we decided to order out.

After getting a pizza and chatting while munching on it, the four of us now sat in a circle on the floor, as Angelina read the rules to her new game. I sat between the twins, Fred on my left and George on my right. Angelina was to George's right, and Oliver was to Fred's left. The game was pretty basic; the red blocks were truth, the black were dare, and if you wanted to, you could write things on the white blocks. We chose to play the game straight the first time; no tricky items on the white blocks. The only wild card was that Angelina had a small beverage refrigerator, well stocked and within reach. I began the night with a firewhiskey, as did my companions.

"If you choose truth, you have to finish your drink that turn," Fred suggested, and everyone agreed.

"Slow dance with a broom," Angelina read, starting the game. We all laughed. "Accio, broom," she called, and her broomstick leapt into her hand from where it had stood against a wall in the other room. She murmured an incantation, and the broom bowed, as if it were part of Mickey Mouse's _Fantasia_. Angelina danced slowly with the broom, as we all continued to laugh.

We took turns taking blocks, the truth blocks asking questions such as, "If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?" and "Describe your first kiss." I avoided the dare blocks in the beginning, but after four truth blocks in a row, my head was beginning to spin with the effects of the firewhiskey. After about twenty minutes of playing, the tower had grown unbelievably tall. George attempted to pull out a dare block from the very bottom, and CRASH, the tower fell. It was only then that we realized that we hadn't stipulated what the loser of the game would have to do.

"You guys think of a good consequence," Angelina said, "And Oliver and I will write dares on the white blocks." They disappeared into the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, Oliver and Angelina returned. Oliver was smirking a bit too much for me to be comfortable with whatever they had written on the blocks. I glanced at Angelina nervously, but she was grinning also, smugly pleased. Before starting the first 'real' round, we all stocked up again on alcohol and moved into more comfortable positions on the floor. Oliver stacked up the blocks, and suggested that I go first, since George had toppled the tower the last time. I nodded, and bravely went for a white block in the middle of the tower. After reading it to myself, my face grew red.

'Blindfold the person to your left and trail your tongue along some part of his or her anatomy.' I blanched. There was no way that they were going to watch me doing anything of the sort to Fred.

"It says choose another block," I lied. Angelina grinned and grabbed it from my hand, despite my protests. Something glittered in her eyes and I wondered how I hadn't noticed that she had a wild side. Maybe it was the alcohol, but I actually considered performing the dare. I would love to trail my tongue across Fred's ear; I imagined it driving him wild.

"Alright, alright, alright," I conceded before Angelina could give me hell, grabbing a dishtowel from a table in the kitchen nearby. "Fred." He looked at me, smirking. I could feel my face turning red as I realized what he was thinking. I tried to give him the glare of death, but it didn't seem to do anything other than make him grin that much more.

I folded the towel lengthwise and tied it around his eyes. This was it; the point of no return. Reaching out, I swept his red hair away from his ears. Angelina, George and Oliver were silent, watching the scene before them with baited breath.

I slowly reached my tongue toward his ear. Making contact, I ran my tongue slowly around the edge of his ear, then lightly over the ridges on its surface. He sighed softly as I nipped it with my teeth quickly before pulling away.

He was grinning.

"Someone else's turn," I said. George had a look of dazed contentment on his face; it was as if he had shared in his twin's experience. Angelina's pupils had grown larger, and Oliver was glancing over at her every few seconds.

"My turn," Fred stated, taking off the blindfold. He was grinning. I made sure that I didn't look him in the eye. He deftly maneuvered a red block from the middle of the pile, and before reading what it said, finished his firewhiskey in one gulp.

"If you could kiss anyone in the room, who would it be?" he read.

"What a stupid question," his twin remarked. "As if he's thinking of anything BUT kissing Hermione after that little dare." I could feel my face turning red yet again.

"Agreed," Fred answered, grinning. "Especially when she blushes like that." Now Angelina and Oliver were laughing along with the twins. I grinned, unable to stay aggravated with them.

It was Oliver's turn next. He attempted to pull a red block from two thirds of the way up the tower, but it teetered unsteadily, so he quickly switched to a black block further down.

"Remove an article of clothing," he read. Shrugging, he removed the Quidditch shirt that he had been wearing. Angelina and I exchanged glances. The appeal of the Weasley twins was their rebellious natures in addition to their good looks, but Oliver Wood was just plain hot. On top of that, he was either indifferent or unaware of the amorous looks he received constantly from any female with a pulse.

"And on to Angelina," George stated, smirking at the two girls. As the game progressed, the supply of firewhiskey became less and less. Then Angelina and I began giggling more and more, and the guys became more and more touchy-feely.

"Sit on the lap of the person to your right until your next turn," I groaned. I glanced over at a grinning George.

"Cmon now, Hermione, tell George what you'd like for Christmas," Fred teased. After about the third firewhiskey, I had stopped turning red every time they poked fun at me, but it was still completely out of usual Hermione behavior. Giggling as much to alleviate my nervousness as it was from the whiskey, I climbed over to my red-haired companion, attempted to crawl on top of him, then fell, still giggling. At long last, George grasped my waist and seated me on his lap. I wiggled around trying to get comfortable, and noticed him close his eyes to regain self control.

"Sit still, little one," he whispered in my ear. I giggled softly and tried to sit still, but the alcohol coursing through my veins was making it difficult. Fred attempted to pull a block from the tower. We were quickly running out of the more tame red and black blocks. Fred went right for a white block in the middle of the tower. After reading it to himself, he addressed the rest of us, smirking.

"Alright, friends, it is time to escalate our little game. I think that it is time to swear to one another that whatever happens in this room, stays in this room. Agreed?" The others nodded. Satisfied, Fred began to read the block. "Take two pieces of clothing from the player of your choice." I swallowed. "Since Hermione is occupying my brother so completely, I will have to choose Angelina," he said. He approached her, and the rest of us held our breath. Unseen by the other players, George let a hand wander up my waist to rest under my shirt. He traced circles on my bare skin and breathed softly near my ear. It was all I could do to keep from closing my eyes to focus on the sensations.

Fred was slowly pulling up Angelina's shirt, holding his breath as he did so. He tossed her t-shirt aside, revealing a dark purple bra with a small ribbon on the front. She had a fairly large chest, and the twins and Oliver examined it intently.

"Cmon guys, haven't you seen a girl's chest before?" she admonished. Fred had not forgotten that he had one remaining piece of clothing to remove.

"Question for the jury," Fred asked, "Can I remove one piece of clothing from two players and have it count?"

"Yes," said three voices in stereo.

"No," I retorted.

"Majority has it," said Fred, and stalked me. I swallowed. "George, brother, this is my present to you," he stated, and pulled my t-shirt from me. I noticed that the lap I was seated on was getting less comfortable again, as certain parts of George's anatomy began to harden. I was glad that I had picked out new underwear tonight, but wished it had been something other than 'Hello Kitty' adorning them.

"So CUTE," Angelina commented, without thinking. I grinned, glad that the alcohol was dulling my embarrassment.

"Whose turn is it?" George asked. Even without my shirt to hide his actions, he had continued to draw circles on my skin unnervingly.

"Mine," Oliver stated. He pulled out a red block, and swallowed his drink. "Ever been skinny-dipping? Details, please." He turned red. "Well- there's something you have to understand about Quidditch at the uni," he began. Angelina and I squealed, laughing hysterically. THIS would be good. "Well, most of us play Quidditch anyway for the girls," he continued. "Oh, well not me, of course, Angelina…" she couldn't help grinning at him, although she tried to look stern. "Well, so there was this one time, before we were dating," he said pointedly, "when we may have all gone to this park on a lake, and well…"

"Details, please," Angelina grinned wickedly. Oliver coughed.

"Well, there were five girls, and three of us… and well, nothing HAPPENED, just, well, you know, making out, and… and stuff, and then around 2 in the morning a park ranger happened by and we scattered…" by this time, we were all rolling, especially as we watched Oliver turn redder and redder as he watched Angelina's reaction. Instead of getting angry, however, she seemed to be enjoying watching him squirm. "Alright, YOUR turn, Angelina," he said, quickly. She easily pulled a black piece from the tower, and read it aloud.

"Kiss the person on your left," she read, and leaned over and placed a small kiss on Oliver's nose, as his jaw dropped.

"NOT fair!" he complained. "I have to explain all about this horribly embarrassing experience, and all you get is to kiss me on the nose?" Angelina was giggling, but finally grasped his head in both hands, and laid one on him until he stopped babbling. "Well… alright then," he said, groggily. We all glanced at one another, and then laughed aloud.

George eyed the growing tower warily. He tried a red piece toward the top, and breathed a sigh of relief as it moved easily into his hand.

"Describe the most daring thing you've ever done," he laughed, looking at his twin. "Well that's easy, isn't it? Our last day at Hogwarts." Everyone laughed, remembering the day that the twins had wreaked havoc to torment the horrible Professor Umbridge.

"Come to think of it," Fred said, "if we haven't done anything to top that, we really are due to try something incredibly stupid." His expression was laughably serious. "I mean, cmon, we have a reputation to uphold." George tilted his head, considering this.

"Go on, Hermione, before they get any bright ideas," Oliver prodded.

Almost reluctantly, I crawled away from George. I grabbed a truth block without stopping to think of the consequences. As soon as I realized what I had done, I closed my eyes, and hoped that nobody would notice that I hadn't-

"Drink up, 'Mione," Fred taunted. I grimaced, and tried to ignore the still-aware part of my brain that was screaming at me not to take a drink. I downed the whiskey. The still-aware part of my brain was no longer an issue. I read the block. Twice.

"If you were desert… I mean, if you were stuck on a desert island, which player would you want to be stuck with?"

"Oooooh, this will be telling," George teased. "Which of us does she fancy most, Gred?"

"I would choose… Angelina," I said, before the part of my head that was smug and proud that I had thrown a cog in the wheel caught up with the part of my head that realized how this would sound. The boys hooted; Angelina's jaw dropped.

"No, I mean, because she's not a guy," I stammered, making things worse.

"Ouch," Fred said, "and here I thought she'd fancied us all this time, George." I turned red and hid my face in my hands.

"No, no, no…" I murmured, but the boys were relentless.

"And what happens when you get LONELY," Fred said, dangerously close to my ear. "On that island, just the two of you… whatever will you do?" I just shook my head without looking up. Firewhiskey was BAD. Very bad. I poured another one.

"Here," George said, forcing a glass of water into my hand. "I think it's time for this." I glanced up at him, shocked at his sudden kindness. He was smirking. All happy thoughts I'd had toward him went away again.

"OK, okay, leave her alone, Fred, it's your turn," Oliver was still smiling, but turned to Fred. Fred, fearless, perhaps living up to the 'daring' comment he had made earlier, went right for a white block.

"Spin a bottle for five minutes in the closet with another player of the opposite sex," it read. I looked at Angelina, who was grinning.

"You set us up," I whined.

"You betcha," she grinned. "This is just getting to the fun part." The childish dare took on a whole new light with the dares we had been doing previously. The fact that we were drunken post-college graduates didn't help, either. Angelina grabbed one of the bottles that had been emptied earlier and placed it in the middle, pointing the neck toward Fred.

"Alright, boys, step back. Hermione, you stand across from me." I did as she instructed, and prayed that it would land on Angelina. Then I thought about it for a moment, and prayed that it _wouldn't_ land on Angelina… I didn't want to think about Fred being alone with her for five minutes in a closet. The alcohol was making me feel strangely possessive toward the twins.

Fred gave the bottle a great spin, and it took a full minute before it stopped.

"That's you, Hermione."

"What do you mean, it's me? It's in the middle."

"Sweetheart, it couldn't be more directly pointing at you if we placed it there ourselves." I swallowed.

"Which closet?" Fred asked. Angelina pointed toward a coat closet in her front hall that had been conveniently emptied and left plenty of standing room. The sliding doors would prevent anyone from seeing what was going on inside. "Cmon, 'Mione," Fred said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward it. I looked back at the circle of friends, who were smirking, and waiting for us to disappear behind the doors. Fred put a hand on my waist and guided me ahead of him into the closet. Once he was fully concealed after me, he pulled the doors shut behind him. I heard a great whoop of laughter behind us.

"This is insane," I said, leaning against the wall.

"Eh, not really," Fred stated. "You have to admit, it is kind of hot doing truth or dare on this level. While drunk." He gave me a lopsided grin. I couldn't help grinning back. "So," he continued, "You _did_ fancy George and I, right?" I gaped at him, tried to deny it, and failed.

"How did you know that?" I asked.

"LESS TALKING, MORE ACTION!" came a shout from outside the doors. "ONLY FOUR MINUTES LEFT!"

Fred grinned, and, holding my face in his hand, kissed me softly. I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the fact that I was in a dark closet with one of the hottest guys I had ever dreamed about, but I was melting. Even after consuming as much alcohol as we had, he was an amazing kisser. He made me remember that I still didn't have a shirt on. His hands were slightly above my waist, and his left hand was gently stroking my skin. He was rubbing his hand higher; I couldn't find the strength to stop him. I could feel his tongue stroking my own, as he cradled my head with one hand and explored my waist and back with the other. He began kissing my neck, and I whimpered softly.

"Good stuff?" he questioned quietly, ceasing his ministrations long enough to ask the question, then returning to nibbling on my shoulder.

"Good stuff," I breathed in agreement, my hands already wandering to the hem of his t-shirt.

"Good," he breathed, and pressed up against me against the wall. I could feel the hardness against me that meant that he was having as good a time as I was. His tongue battled with mine as he pressed me harder against the wall. Now his hands were inching up my sides, caressing but creeping dangerously close to my chest. Even though 95 percent of my hormones were focused on making out with Fred, the remaining 5 percent were keeping close tabs on exactly where his hands were. And a moment later, they found their mark, and softly rubbed against the fabric of my bra. I intended to argue, but ended up whimpering as he stroked my chest, almost lovingly. My hands were exploring now, something that I had not planned, running over his chest and tangling in his hair. He stopped his ministrations to grasp my bottom in both hands, lifting me up against him. The friction was so delicious that I heard him moan softly, hopefully too quietly for our friends to hear. A moment later, he stopped suddenly, and my eyes struggled to open fully to figure out what was going on. I realized that they were shouting to us that the time was up.

"You ready to face reality again?" Fred asked. I nodded, not meaning a bit of it. He gave me another swift kiss. "That was excellent, by the way," he whispered. I looked into his eyes and grinned.

"Well, yeah. Understatement," I answered. He grinned back, and opened the doors. I could see them all trying to read our faces about what had just happened.

"Whose turn is it?" I asked calmly. Angelina grinned.


End file.
